


Coughs in the Morning

by StreetSoldierin



Series: Hollywood Undead One Shots [1]
Category: Hollywood Undead (Band)
Genre: Coughing, Cuddling, Fluff, Gen, Jorel is an A+ friend, Platonic Relationships, Sickfic, also he takes no shit from nobody, cutest bromance ever though, dylan is having fun, even though he's not gay, homo all the way, johnny and charlie are an old married couple, johnny just wanted to sleep, jorel doesn't give a fuck about no homo, no really lots and lots of fluff, platonic only in this one sorry, poor little lion, prankwar, someone caught the flu
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-12
Updated: 2018-05-12
Packaged: 2019-05-05 17:13:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,293
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14623362
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StreetSoldierin/pseuds/StreetSoldierin
Summary: This is the sickfic that someone might have asked for – I mean, I didn't hear anyone but who doesn't love a cute lil sickfic?In other words, Danny gets sick and keeps all the other guys awake so they decide that instead of sleeping they're gonna take care of their little lion.Prankwars happen. Vodka gets chugged.





	Coughs in the Morning

**Author's Note:**

> There's nothing hardcore happening here, but trigger warnings go out for sickness and some blood.

Jorel woke up to the sound of violent coughing. Groaning he rolled onto his side and grabbed his phone, looking at the display. It was nearly three in the morning.   
The coughing continued, and from the sounds of it, whoever it was tried to suppress it but wasn't very successful. 

When it didn't stop after a good five minutes, Jorel sighed, quietly pushed back the curtain and hopped out of his bunk. The coughing came from the bottom bunk across from his – Danny.   
He crouched down and drew back the curtain. The small lamp above the bunk was turned on. Danny was lying on his side, face buried in his arms to muffle the coughing, and his whole body was trembling from the strain.   
"Hey," Jorel whispered. "You want a glass of water?" Danny nodded without lifting his head to face Jorel, so the latter got up and quietly padded to the kitchen to fill up a glass with tap water. When he returned, the coughing had died down and Danny was still lying on his side, chest heaving as he wheezed.   
Jorel sat down on the floor next to the bunk. "Here you go." Danny pushed himself up a little on his forearms and took the glass from Jorel. "Thanks," he whispered, his voice hoarse and raspy, and took a few sips of the water.   
"You not feeling good?" Jorel asked and took in the singer's appearance. Even in the dim light of the small lamp he could see that Danny was drenched in sweat and as pale as a sheet of paper. He shook his head in answer and took another sip of water. "Think I'm getting sick," he mumbled. Jorel nodded, even though he was fairly certain that Danny already was sick. "You should try to sleep some more."   
"'kay. Sorry for waking you up," Danny mumbled, but Jorel just waved him off and started to push himself up. "No worries. You can come to me if you need anything."    
Then he took the empty glass from Danny and stood up, took it back to the kitchen and then climbed back into his own bunk. 

He was dead tired, but he couldn't fall back asleep right away. Instead he found himself listening to Danny's heavy breathing, which was difficult not to hear. There was occasional muffled coughing, and again it sounded like Danny was trying to suppress it but didn't quite succeed.   
After about twenty minutes there was another violent coughing fit, and when it was over Jorel heard Danny climb out of his bunk and go to the bathroom. Few minutes later there was a retching sound.

Jorel sighed and drew his curtain back again. He couldn't sleep when his friend was that miserable.   
When he got up, another curtain was drawn open and Dylan stuck his head out of his bank. "Did he puke now?"   
"Think so. I'll check on him, you can go back to sleep."   
Dylan yawned. "I've been awake for about an hour now, I don't think there'll be any more sleeping for me. Not with this level of noise, anyways."   
"Yeah, it's kind of impossible," Charlie's disgruntled voice came from behind a curtain. "He sounds like he's coughing his lungs up and out. Nobody can sleep through that."   
"Some could," Johnny growled from his bunk. "If it wasn't for the rest of you idiots making such a racket."   
Jorel rolled his eyes. "Whatever, I'm gonna go check on him." 

He left Charlie and Johnny to their bickering and walked over to the bathroom door to knock. "Danny?" The response from behind the door sounded somewhat like "Mh?"   
Jorel tried the handle, but it was locked. "How you doing, buddy? Can you unlock the door?"   
"No, don't come in," Danny murmured.   
"I won't if you don't want me to, but please just unlock it."   
Another "Mh", but Jorel didn't hear the lock clicking. "Danny, open."   
"I don't want you to come in."   
Jorel sighed in frustration. "What are you, drunk or deaf? I won't. I just want you to unlock this damned thing in case something happens." 

There were a few moments of silence and then the retching sounds again, so Jorel took a step back and waited. The door behind him clicked and Dylan appeared at his side. "How's he doing?"   
"Puking," Jorel replied dryly. "And he won't unlock the goddamn door."   
"Is he drunk?" At that, Jorel snorted a laugh. "I asked him the same thing."   
Finally, the retching stopped and Jorel waited a few moments before saying, "The door, please."   
Danny coughed a few times. Then Jorel heard a small, "No."   
That was it. "If you don't open this motherfucking door in ten seconds then I'll wake Johnny again to fucking kick it down, and you do not want a tired Johnny in your face, Danny Murillo, so just stretch out your fucking arm and turn this fucking lock."   
Dylan was trying hard to suppress his laughter, but Jorel sighed in relief as there was a rustling in the bathroom and the lock clicked. "There we go."   
"Behold the almighty Johnny," Dylan chuckled, and Jorel couldn't help but smile either. "You okay there, Danny?"   
"I don't feel so good," Danny replied and Jorel rolled his eyes. "Well no shit. But do you need anything? Water?"   
"I... I don't know. No." Now he was starting to get a bit worried, Danny did not sound good at all. "Can I come in?" Jorel asked carefully. There was no answer at first, but then Danny sighed and said, "Yeah."   
Jorel opened the door to the small bathroom and sucked in a breath at the sight of a trembling Danny sitting on the ground opposite to the toilet. His blond hair was damp with sweat and his shirt was drenched in sweat and... blood?   
"What the hell?" Jorel dropped to his knees next to Danny and looked him up and down to search for any injuries.   
"I got a nosebleed," Danny explained weakly and leaned his head back against the tiles. Sure enough, his jaw and throat were smeared with blood too.   
"Jesus Christ," Jorel mumbled and turned to Dylan. "Can you bring him a new shirt? And maybe a sweater too, looks like he's freezing."   
"Sure thing," Dylan replied and disappeared. Jorel turned his attention back to Danny. "Alright, let's get you a bit cleaned up. Do you have to puke again?" But Danny shook his head. "Nah, I think I'm good now."   
"Okay." He stood up, took a towel from the shelf and soaked it with warm water. Then he hung it over the sink and turned back to Danny. "Come here." Carefully he supported the singer as he got up and then sat down on the toilet seat. Jorel grabbed the hem of the filthy shirt and pulled it over Danny's head, then he took the wet towel and wiped all the blood off Danny's face, neck and torso. Halfway done, Danny started coughing again.   
When he was cleaned up, Jorel took a dry towel and rubbed him off to get some heat back into him, because despite his burning hot face, he was shivering.   
Dylan returned with the dry clothes and Danny put them on himself. His arms were shaking a bit, but he managed.   
"Alright," Jorel said when Danny was dressed up in a shirt and a black, soft sweater. "Let's get you to the couch. It's too cold here." He didn't think bringing Danny back to his bunk was a good idea, the bunk beds were too small and cramped. The couch seemed like a better choice, at least there Danny could move around and sit upright if he wanted to.   
Jorel helped Danny up and draped an arm around his shoulders. The singer was a bit unsteady on his feet, but they managed to get to the back of the bus just fine.   
"I'm gonna go and make you some tea," Dylan said and patted Danny's shoulder as Jorel seated him on the sofa. "That'll bring some warmth back to you."   
"Thank you," Danny croaked out and Dylan disappeared with a wink. Danny sighed and let his head fall back while closing his eyes. "I'm so sorry for keeping you all up."    
Jorel sat down next to him. "I told you, it's no problem. You look like a literal undead right now, buddy, I'd rather have an eye on you."   
Danny chuckled weakly. "Can't argue with that, I guess." Then a frown appeared on his face. "I can't get sick. We have a show in two days."   
Jorel snorted. "First of all, you're not getting sick, you are sick. And concerning the show, don't think about it now. We'll see how you are then, and if it doesn't work out, then it doesn't."   
"But the fans..."   
"...are human just like you," Jorel interrupted. "Don't worry about it now."   
The door opened and a very disgruntled looking Johnny stepped inside and plopped onto the sofa next to theirs. "Might as well be where the fun is," he explained as he took in Jorel's and Danny's questioning looks. "Apparently nobody is granted sleep once Mr. Charlie Scene is up and about."   
"Lighten up, old man." Said singer had appeared in the door and threw himself down right next to Johnny. "What's up, Danny? Your lungs still inside your chest?"   
Danny chuckled. "Yeah, and I hope they'll stay there."   
"That's the spirit." Charlie yawned and stretched his arms above his head. "God it's early."   
"You don't have to stay up because of me," Danny started, but Charlie just shushed him. "Please, others would kill to be nursed back to health by four gorgeous men as ourselves. Appreciate your privilege."   
Danny shook his head, but a faint smile remained on his lips.   
The door opened again and Dylan entered balancing a tray with a teapot and cups. "Since everyone's awake now I thought we might as well have a tea party. Here you go." He started handing out cups. "And the biggest one for you, poor sick child." Danny shot Dylan a glare but accepted the cup nevertheless.   
Charlie looked at his cup and sighed. "Couldn't have been coffee, could it? Who drinks tea at five in the morning?"   
"Most people sleep at that time," Johnny growled.   
"Just chug it all down at once, Charlie," Dylan advised, which made Johnny laugh in response. "Him? Dude can't even chug his Jägers."   
"Oh, you wanna dare me?" Charlie retorted. Johnny just laughed again, and then Charlie grabbed his mug and downed its entire content. His eyes bulged and he gagged repeatedly, quickly slapping a hand over his mouth.   
"Fuck!" he ground out and shot Dylan, who had started laughing like a maniac, a deadly glare. "What the actual fuck, man!"   
"This point of the prank war goes to Funny Man!", Dylan cheered, gasping for air.   
Jorel couldn't quite follow and Danny and Johnny looked just as lost. "What is it?"   
Wiping tears from his eyes, Dylan jerked his head towards Charlie. "Mr. Scene just downed an entire cup of warm vodka."   
Johnny and Jorel burst out into loud laughter, while Danny shot his own cup a mistrusting look and sniffed at it. "Don't worry, I'd never do that to you when you're sick," Dylan reassured him and winked. "I just thought the poor sick man could need a laugh."   
"Fuck you and your fucking mustache," Charlie growled. "Making me down hot vodka at five in the morning."   
"I never thought you'd chug it all down, I was expecting you to sip. But this was just priceless."   
Still chuckling, Jorel shook his head and glanced at Danny, who was smiling too, but his eyelids seemed to be quite heavy and he was still shivering a bit. "Hey." He nudged his friend. "Do you wanna lay down?" Danny nodded, and so Jorel took his cup and moved to the end of the sofa so Danny could lay down. The blond singer rested his head on Jorel's lap and closed his eyes while Jorel himself draped a blanket over the other's shivering form. Then he started running his fingers through the blond hair to which Danny responded with a content sigh.   
"Oh my goood, it's my Oh-Tee-Pee," Charlie said in a high pitched voice and shook Johnny's shoulder. The latter grunted and swatted his hands away. "Did you really have to give this one alcohol at five am? Couldn't you have pranked Jorel?"   
"Psh," Charlie said. "But come on, snap a picture of this and give it to the fangirls and you'll have a thousand fanfictions online in a matter of minutes."   
"They grind hard, these girls," Dylan agreed with a grin.   
Jorel just rolled his eyes. "I don't care. They can have their fun, and I don't have to scream 'No homo' at every touch to prove that I'm a man."   
And it was true, he had never cared. The people who thought the word gay was an insult were the ones with a problem, both those who used it and those who felt insulted by it.   
He wasn't gay, and that was it, that didn't mean he couldn't cuddle another man.   
"Wise words, my friend," Dylan said and raised his cup. "Here's to your unbreakable masculinity. May it inspire all the men of the world."   
"Jesus, what drugs did you take?" Jorel mumbled, but raised his cup nevertheless, as did Johnny. They all took a sip. And spat it right out again.   
In the chaos before, they had totally forgot to check what Dylan had put in their cups.   
But Jorel wasn't mad, not really. Not with Danny chuckling this happily. If this was what it took to make him feel better, then so be it. 

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are heavily appreciated.


End file.
